Expedition - Below Decks
Crew Quarters ---- ::Bunks stacked two high stretch seven rows deep, creating rack space for fourteen brave souls in this cramped cabin. As with the other spaces in the boat, fear of starting a fire keeps the two closely-chained lanterns near the center of the cabin unlit most of the time and the space dark when the hatch is closed. ::Between the two rows of bunks is barely enough room for one person to walk without turning. Netting along the upper rows of bunks allow for their occupants to rest assured they won't roll off their narrow straw cots in the night, but excepting inventions born of the ingenuity of individual crewmembers, there is remarkably little privacy in the crew cabin. ---- Vhramis is busy going through a leather pack rested on his bunk. The man stands aside it, leaned over as he digs around inside of the bag, searching for something intently. A muffled groan can be heard from across the narrow aisle. The blanket-covered form occupying the upper bunk rolls over, and a messy-haired Syton Temple peers blearily into the cramped compartment. "Master Wolfsbane," he says, somewhere between a greeting and a question. He stretches and yawns, sticking his arms and legs out over the aisle. Vhramis glances over at the groan as Temple rolls, raising an eyebrow briefly at him, before nodding and looking back down into the pack. "Hello. Sleep well?" he grunts. "Yes, fine," Syton replies in a raspy voice. He rubs his eyes and sticks his head out a bit farther, looking up and down the aisle before returning to Vhramis. "What are you looking for?" he asks, blinking to clear his eyes. "My things," Wolfsbane answers as he draws out a large piece of flint, staring blankly at it, before dropping it back into the bag. He reaches his arm in deeper, rustling and clanging things about. "You thirsty?" "Yes... no... I do not know, give me a moment..." Syton yawns again, shakes his head quickly, then slowly slides down from his bunk, nearly taking the blankets with him. He lands on his feet gracelessly, wearing only a pair of grey trousers. He steadies himself with one hand and asks, "What time is it?" Wolfsbane looks to the roof of the cabin at that question, staring at the wood for a moment, before either realizing he can't see the sky, or just giving up on trying to peer through the deck. "I don't know. Night, sometime," he answers with a shrug, staring back down into his pack. "We're still moving, at least." Syton nods slowly. "That is good," he mutters before turning back towards his bunk. He pulls a matching grey tunic from beneath his mattress and slips it on. "Can I give you a hand with anything?" he asks back towards Vhramis. He sits on the bottom bunk and begins to put on his boots. "Eh? No, no need," Vhramis shakes his head, glancing up briefly. He frowns slightly, and slides the pack a half inch more towards the wall, following it. "I'm just taking stock of things. Yes." His voice lowers, and he mutters, "But where the shades is it?" Once his boots are on, Syton sits on the bunk for a few moments and collects himself before returning to his feet. He takes his cloak from a peg on the wall and puts it around his shoulders. He looks generall cold, despite having gotten out of bed only moments before. "Well, if you or the Drakes need any help, please feel free to ask me. I am just sitting around most of the time anyway." "I'd be careful what you offer the Drakes," Wolfsbane replies with a small shake of his head, either joking or not catching the not entirely serious nature of Temple's statement. Most likely the second one. "You'll probably have plenty to do once we land, anyway." Syton smirks amusedly at Vhramis's comment, whether he meant to be funny or not. The young freelander shifts beneath his cloak and says, "As long as I have something to do other than row and stand watch, I will be glad... assuming that we get to Crown's Refuge without another incident, that is." "Best thing is to be positive at this point..aha!" the ranger cries in triumph, a smile flashing briefly across his face as he lifts something out and slides it into his pocket. The pack is closed again and set down under his bunk, and the man turns about to lay down. "Optimism is something that I usually have in great supply, Master Wolfsbane," Syton says, frowning thoughtfully, "but this expedition is making that difficult." He glances over to the hatch, pauses for a moment, then looks back to Vhramis. "What is Crown's Refuge like?" he asks with a curious expression. Vhramis takes a moment to settle into his bunk before answering any questions, pressing his boots off with his feet and letting them thud to the floor. He reaches for the blanet and tugs it over him, not bothering undressing, and reaches into his pocket again to draw out whatever it was he retrieved. "Quiet, most of the time. People there do what they need to in order to survive, and while they're not unfriendly, they may not be the most open to you." Syton nods for a while as he thinks that over. "I see," he says after a few seconds, obviously still going over things in his own mind. He returns to the world after a moment, and says to Vhramis. "I will leave you to your rest. Light keep you." "If you have something to do," shrugs the ranger as he lay on his back. "Like rowing? I'm sure someone would gladly hand his seat to you, if you're in a rush," he states dryly. "Have a good night then. I won't be far, I'm sure. Let me know if you see any red drakes sitting on deck." Syton quirks a half-grin and nods to Vhramis. "I will," he says simply before walking to the hatch. He climbs up onto the deck, slamming the hatch shut behind him. Category:Logs